Teri Woods: True To The Game III

The nurse nodded and lifted a large telephone book from beneath the nurses’ station.

Dr. Hopkins knew that one thing was for certain: a mother would do anything to keep her child alive. A wife or girlfriend could be after an insurance policy, or her jealous lover could have been the gunman. But a mother, she would kill or die to protect her offspring. She needed the mother’s address.

The nurses and a couple of ICU orderlies wheeled Quadir out of the operating room, heading for the elevator.

“What’s he look like?” Hopkins asked.

“Vitals are stable. Blood pressure is 118 over 80.”

“Good job, Amelia,” Dr. Brant told her, exiting the operating room.

“Thanks, Benny.”

“I’m heading over to the cafeteria. Want to join me?” Dr. Brant asked.

Amelia nodded. She could use something to eat. Besides, she wanted to run a few things by Dr. Brant. He was her mentor, and she trusted him completely. It had been Dr. Brant who had trained her and helped her to hone her surgical skills to what they were today. Benny Brant was probably one of the top surgeons in the country. And for him, a wealthy Jewish surgeon from New York, to have taken a poor black girl from the Alabama countryside under his wing was unfathomable. He had dozens of doctors from some of the finest families all over the country trying to intern under him, some of whom where the sons of his colleagues. The fact that he had pulled her under his wing was something that she would forever be grateful for.

The two of them headed for the elevator.

Amelia moved through the parking garage with the ferocity of a cheetah on the prowl. Her determined steps took her rapidly through the parking structure to the secluded corner where her meeting was to take place. The person with whom she was to meet was already there.

“Viola Richards?” she asked.

Viola nodded. “What’s going on? Why did you ask for me to meet you here?”

Amelia peered around the parking garage to make sure they were alone. Still, she thought it best that they move to the even more secluded second level. She clasped Viola’s arm and led her off.

“I wanted to meet you here because I had some questions about your son. I operated on him in the emergency room.”

Viola sniffled. “Do the police have any suspects or leads in the case?” she asked, shaking her head. “You know how they are. My son was a young black man whose occupation was questionable. In situations like these, they don’t care about finding the killers. They just chalk him up as another statistic.”

Amelia nodded. She knew exactly what Viola Richards was talking about. Young black men, drug dealer or no drug dealer, were all statistics. They would lump their deaths in one of two categories: drug related or gang related.

“I take it that you don’t have great faith in our police department,” Amelia observed.

“Could as well been them that killed my baby,” Viola told her.

Amelia nodded. Good. She now knew that Viola was no fan of the police department, which meant that in all probability she would cooperate with her request.

“Any idea who did this to your son?”

Viola shook her head. “No, it could have been anybody. You know how things are; nobody wants to be a snitch. It could be your best friend, your mama, even your own child. That’s just the way it is.”

“Take care of it in the streets, huh?”

Mrs. Richards nodded. “But the only problem with that is that it’s just more kids getting killed.”

Amelia nodded. “I believe in taking care of our own.”

Amelia led Viola to the upper level of the parking garage and stopped just in front of a black Mercedes S Class. “Are you a religious woman, Mrs. Richards?”

“Of course. I go to church every Sunday.”

“Sometimes God has a plan for each of us. And sometimes we don’t understand what His plan is. Sometimes he works in ways so mysterious, even we doctors can’t explain it.”

“Amen! I know that’s right.”

“Sometimes when we doctors have exhausted all medical means possible, God steps in with His hand and touches a person. Even when we have given up, sometimes God says I ain’t done using this person yet.”

Viola smiled. “I know that my Quadir is with the Lord. I know that God still has a plan for him, and for each of us.” She clasped Amelia’s hand and shook it. “I want to thank you for all that you did to try to save my son.”

Amelia smiled. “Don’t thank me just yet. You may want to lean up against this car right here.”

Viola leaned back against the Mercedes and stared at Amelia. She was truly puzzled.

“After the surgeon worked on your son, he thought that he had lost him. He declared your son deceased. A short time later, an orderly went into the room and found that your son was not dead.”

Viola clasped her chest and her knees buckled. Amelia caught her and held her up.

“I rushed into the operating room, and I began to operate on your son. I found the bullet that the surgeon could not retrieve, and I was able to repair the damage to your son.”

Viola stared at her in bewilderment.

Amelia smiled and nodded. “Quadir is alive,” she whispered.

Viola gasped and began to slide to the ground again. Amelia could not hold her up this time. Tears flowed from Viola’s eyes, and she began to kiss Amelia’s hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, dear Lord, thank you! My baby is alive! Thank you!”

Amelia knelt down beside her. “We don’t know who tried to kill Quadir. We have to be very, very careful. I want to keep him alive. I don’t want to tell anyone that he is alive, understand?”

Viola nodded.

“I don’t know who I can trust. Does he have a wife?”

Viola frowned at the thought of Gena. She never had liked the girl, but that was her son’s choice, not hers. “He has a girlfriend and they were engaged, but they hadn’t tied the knot. Even still, though, I don’t want to tell nobody! Nobody! Don’t call nobody else, doc.”

Amelia nodded. “I haven’t informed the police.”

“Good! Don’t tell them neither!”

“Quadir is in stable but critical condition. These next few days are going to be really important for him.”

“Can I see him, doctor?”

“Eventually, yes. But right now, to have you coming up to the hospital…”

She nodded again. “I understand. Just do whatever it is you’re doing. Just keep doing your thing, baby!” Viola wrapped her arms around Amelia and hugged her as tight as she could.

“I love you,” Viola began crying heavily. “I don’t know you, but I love you, baby. I love you so much. You brought my baby back to me.”

Amelia rose and helped Viola to her feet. “We are going to have to be smart on this one.”

“Whatever you need, baby, you just tell me.”

“We can’t let anyone catch on, especially the fiancée. We can’t let her snoop around. I’ve taken care of the autopsy report. The death certificate has already been signed by another doctor. I have a body from the morgue with Quadir’s chart on it.”

“A body.”

“He was a John Doe. No one has claimed him for some time. He was young, about Quadir’s age, decent shape. Probably homeless, maybe even a drug addict. He probably has no family, so to speak, and his looks are perfect to allow him to pass for Quadir.”

Mrs. Richardson nodded solemnly.

“So, tomorrow you can have the undertaker pick him up, okay,” Amelia asked, hoping Quadir’s mother was following her line. “And you’ll take care of the fiancée, right? Make sure she doesn’t make trouble for us.”

“Oh, I think I can handle that. I can definitely keep her from getting into things. Once I get into his house, I can control everything.” The first thing will be to put her ass out. Once I get rid of Gena, everything will work itself out, Viola couldn’t help but think to herself. “Mmm-hmm, I can get in there, control things. Keep her from his papers, his money, and all the things that she can use to mess things up for us.”